


Damon Albarn and the Circus

by Queen_Of_Antarctica



Series: Damon Albarn Gothic [2]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Damon Albarn Progressively Growing More And More Insane, Oh Yeah And Roses Gabor Is The Woman Who Voices Noodle In DARE Just In Case You Didn't Know, Plastic Beach Tour, This Is Actually How I Imagine Gorillaz Concerts To Be Like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Of_Antarctica/pseuds/Queen_Of_Antarctica
Summary: Gorillaz are one band. Damon Albarn and his circus of thirty featured artists, two orchestras, and backing musicians to cover the instruments he doesn't have nearly enough appendages for- that's another entirely.





	Damon Albarn and the Circus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Damon Albarn finds that working on Gorillaz music may very well be the most relaxing part of his entire music career, despite what the workload may seem like to nearly everyone else. He can create music behind the veneer of Hewlett's characters and just about have the creative freedom to do whatever he'd like. Having enough of a reputation to secure just about any collaboration he wants and being able to explore musical styles he'd never have ventured into while fronting Blur- Gorillaz is essentially any genreblending musician’s wet dream, with no strings attached.

If not for the inevitable tour.

Gorillaz are one band. Damon Albarn and his circus of thirty featured artists, two orchestras, and backing musicians to cover the instruments he doesn't have nearly enough appendages for- that's another entirely.

On the stage itself, about fifty musicians will mill about, most lounging around and/or playing Candy Crush until Damon Albarn angrily drags them to center stage for their parts. Bobby Womack is usually engrossed in a deep conversation with Yukimi Nagano about the importance of marijuana in civilized society or the theory that bees are actually small benevolent aliens from the planet Mercury, and all the bassists are playing a ridiculously long game of Go Fish involving fourteen card decks. The game has been steadily puttering on since the Demon Days tour, and they show no signs of stopping. Below is the infamous Orchestra Pit, rumored to be haunted by the vengeful soul of Del tha Funkee Homosapien and known more colloquially as "The Place Where All The Musicians Who Aren't Currently Performing Take A Well-Deserved Nap". One cannot go five steps without stepping on a disgruntled keytarist or a respected member of a British band.

By the time the second concert's rolled around, Shaun Ryder has already loudly named himself the King of the Orchestra Pit in the middle of Slow Country, to a very confused crowd. Damon takes one look at the middle-aged drunkard hopping around the viola section with a ragged Burger King crown perched atop his head, and turns to Roses Gabor with a desperate expression.

"Rosie, please, for all the love you hold for me. Babysit that man," he whispers, as Ryder proceeds to snatch the sunglasses off the faces of every concertgoer in the front row.

She mulls this over for a moment or two, then proposes: "Alright, but only if you appoint me Royal Duchess of the Orchestra Pit."

"Deal."

"Ooh, do I get a crown, too?"

"If you don't get over there and shut that maniac down this instant, I'm taking DARE off the setlist for the rest of the tour."

Gabor flourishes in her new role as the Royal Duchess. She’s often seen sitting on the edge of the stage and chatting up a charming cellist, all while patting Ryder on the back and making soothing noises with her mouth every time he works himself up into a frenzy.

After that, the following concerts get progressively more and more disorganized. The meticulously-planned setlist is scrapped and now changes on a dime, the orchestra is complaining about mysterious floating instruments and nonsensical words like “MISTADOBALINA” appearing on the double basses in blood, and Damon Albarn is quickly running out of Tylenol. Unbeknownst to him, Roses Gabor has set up a rather popular betting pool on the exact show in which he’ll suffer a complete mental breakdown. “The odds are currently favoring Hong Kong,” Gabor explains with a maniacal light in her eyes, “but there’s time yet, people. Anyone brave enough to wager for Australia? Do I hear a Melbourne? Going once, going twice…”

They're almost through the last concert's set, distressingly close to when Feel Good Inc should be played, when Damon Albarn begins looking frantically around for De La Soul. "Have you rounded them up yet?" he mutters to a nearby sound technician as the crowd is momentarily distracted by the antics of Bashy & Kano. "No, but we think we’ve got Vincent Mason cornered, and the rest of the roadies are still searching for the other two," she offers helplessly.

Albarn runs a hand through his hair, which is visibly graying by the second, and tries to think of a song he hasn't performed yet in order to stall for time. Last Living Souls? No, he always plays that one first. Clint Eastwood? No, no one's seen Del in five years. (They should really check up on that, actually.) Beetlebum? Yeah, that's a nice tune, and- no, wait, hang on, wrong band. He's got to stop doing that.

In a panic, Albarn spins and points at the first person in his line of sight and prays that they're a collaborator. It happens to be Yukimi Nagano, who is perched on one of the concert speakers and fiddling around with a ukulele. "You," Damon says. "The song. The... the one I sing with the girl."

"Yu-ki-mi," she says, slowly, pityingly. "Yukimi. From Little Dragon. Do you remember that much, at least?"

Damon gives her a blank look. "Yeah..... yeah, sure. Girl I sing the song with. Song in which I sing with a girl, who is you."

She sighs, then hops down and motions at the rest of her band. "Come on, let's do Empire Ants and we're out of here for the night. Anyone up for Steak n' Shake? I think I saw one on the way here."

"Oh, right, Empire Ants," Damon murmurs under his breath.

The orchestra pit has now somehow caught on fire, and the two missing members of De La Soul dash out, screaming. They are followed closely behind by assorted members of the National Orchestra for Arabic Music and a blurry streak that could possibly be Snoop Dogg.

Shaun Ryder, the source of the fire himself, holds a smoking Molotov cocktail above his head in a rather precarious manner. His sunglasses appear to be upside down. "It's  **_DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE_ ** ," he bellows. Behind him, Little Dragon is still calmly playing Empire Ants without a hitch.

Damon Albarn fleetingly wonders what has become of Royal Duchess Roses Gabor, then decides it's safer not to know.

The show ends after the now-reunited De La Soul sheepishly shows up to perform Feel Good Inc, all wearing clothes with noticeably more scorch stains than usual. Del finally makes a surprise appearance to play Clint Eastwood one last time ("See? His soul  _ was _ trapped in the orchestra pit!" yells Paul Simonon. "Mick owes me a fiver!"), and the tour ends with a surprising amount of grace as almost every member of the Circus gather onstage to take a bow.

In the end, they find a dazed Roses Gabor wandering around inside a janitor closet. “I was just talking to that cellist fellow, the one with the nice hair,” she later explains to a sympathetic Bobby Womack. “I was just… just talking to him… and then suddenly I was locked in that closet Damon rescued me from five minutes ago.” She looks at the distant silhouette of Shaun Ryder, who appears to be chasing a flaming tire around and around the deserted parking lot. “How did he do it?” she asks, utterly bewildered, with a hint of fearful reverence in her voice. "How did he put me in that closet?"

Damon Albarn glances around and notes that most of the Circus is distracted, then surreptitiously sidles up to the sound technician. “How many casualties this time?” he asks her.

She glances at her clipboard. “Uh, considerably less than there were at the Phoenix show,” she reports.

Damon rubs at his neck. “Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get.” He stands with the technician in the chilly parking lot, watching a flaming tire cartwheel across asphalt and listening to the contented murmurs of a hundred musicians as they wait for their tour buses one last time.

“You actually love doing this, don’t you?” the technician asks after a while.

Damon sighs. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I do.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFieSQHmQT0


End file.
